


Squeeze

by SquarePegCircularThoughts



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Sarai Lives (The Dragon Prince)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:00:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27623078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SquarePegCircularThoughts/pseuds/SquarePegCircularThoughts
Summary: The events of "Heart of a Titan" go differently in a way that tests their bonds and changes their lives forever.
Relationships: Amaya & Gren (The Dragon Prince), Amaya & Harrow (The Dragon Prince), Amaya & Sarai (The Dragon Prince), Harrow/Sarai (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	Squeeze

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everybody at the Dragon Prince Quarantine Rewatch server who read, critiqued, and supported this.

“HARROW,” Sarai screamed, gasping. Amaya dismounted her horse and ran over to her sister, uncertain of what she had said but terrified by the look on her face. When she reached her, her eyes were closed, so she knelt down gently, nudged her wrist, and waited for them to open. Once she saw her sister’s eyes she began to sign frantically, “What’s wrong?!” “Are you ok?!” “What hurts?!” Sarai’s eyes were gentle as always but they didn’t ever seem to focus on Amaya’s words.

A worried expression crossed Amaya’s face, and the feeling sank to the pit of her stomach. She squeezed her sister’s hand. The same haunting realization crossed Sarai’s mind, but neither sister dared say it to the other, willing it not to be true. Instead Sarai lifted her free hand and signed slowly letter-by-letter, unsure if her sister was paying attention, “Amaya I’m O-K.” When she felt Amaya squeeze her hand tighter in understanding, she continued, slightly faster this time, “Go get Harrow.” Barely waiting for her to finish the name, she placed a concerned kiss on her sister’s cheek and ran back to the front of the line to find Harrow guarding the heart of the Magma Titan.

The look on her face must have startled him because he took a step back and was hesitant to meet her eyes. “Amay—” he started, and she held out her hand, cutting him off. She took a deep breath and tried to find the words she had refused to let herself say moments prior. She began signing, slowly, telling herself that the pace was for Harrow’s sake because he was inexperienced as she tried to ignore the fact that every fiber of her being was fighting against the words. “Sarai... she’s hurt...it’s bad” “Come on,” she beckoned him before he could reply. The sign was steady. Her mind was anything but. She turned and ran back toward Sarai, and Harrow ran after her.

She reached her sister, whose eyes opened reflexively at the sound of heavy footsteps but never focused. She knelt down and squeezed her hand. “Sarai, my love, are you alright?” Harrow said as he knelt at her other side, his hand gently stroking her damp forehead. “I am” she said, but her voice was tired and weak. “The heart,” she continued with all the urgency she could muster in her current state, “you have to take the heart back before Thunder—” she squeaked. “Rest easy, my love,” Harrow interrupted. “The Queens of Duren sacrificed themselves for the good of our kingdoms and the beast must have seen it fit to exchange two lives for one because he flew off.”

The three of them stayed there in silence and relative peace holding hands until after a few minutes Sarai slowly blinked her heavy eyes and said, her voice heavy with the realization, “Harrow, I’m blind, Harrow.” Blind. Amaya had known from the minute her sister’s eyes didn’t show their usual focus, their understanding, but reading it from her sister’s lips made it earth-shatteringly real. Tears she didn’t know had been building spilled out now, and she sobbed. Sobbed with a force that would have been strong enough to knock her off her feet had she not already been kneeling.

She felt her hands come up to form words she knew were pointless; they were too fast and shaky for Harrow to understand and impossible for Sarai to see, but they came anyway. They were words only she would ever know, and part of her was glad. Glad that the bitter cutting rage-filled words couldn’t hurt Sarai. When she finished, she collapsed onto her sister’s chest and sobbed some more.

Harrow reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. She jerked away putting her head down flat on Sarai’s chestplate but turned an eye toward him just enough to see him sign a quick “Sorry” with tears in his eyes. He must have said it out loud too because Sarai threw her arms around her and squeezed tightly but clearly still weak with fatigue.

Then she felt her sister’s fingers start running softly through her hair, the same way they had to calm her when she was young. This had been the most exhausting 20 minutes of Amaya’s life; she was exhausted emotionally and physically, drained in a way that was unlike any battle. She wanted nothing more than to lie here in her sister’s arms until the world put itself together again, but they couldn’t stay here, on the wrong side of the border, any longer.

They had to get home. Get Sarai home. She moved, starting to stand up. Sarai clutched her hand anxiously and gave it a squeeze. Amaya returned the squeeze and sighed. Both sisters were rapidly growing frustrated with the fact that their communication abilities had been so drastically limited. “It’s ok Sarai,” Harrow said taking her other hand in his as Amaya let go, “she’s just standing up.”

Amaya turned to Harrow, catching his eyes then signing “we need to go home.” “Go home,” signed again to make sure he got the important bit. They rarely had to talk about going home; they were almost always already there. “Oh yes,” he said, seemingly snapping out of a daze, “we do need to go home,” he said, repeating her signs for go home as he spoke to commit them to memory “but how should we…” he paused, his eyes glancing down toward Sarai. “I’ll take her,” Amaya signed and bent down to scoop Sarai into her arms.

Sarai gasped at being picked up but quickly made herself comfortable pressing against her sister. “Alright then,” Harrow said with an amused huff. Amaya ran back to her horse, leaned Sarai carefully against its sturdy body and mounted. Then she pulled Sarai up to sit behind her. Sarai put her arms around Amaya’s waist and rested her head in between her shoulders.

It was a painfully uneventful ride, devoid of their usual banter, empty entirely save for the feeling of Sarai’s breathing and the occasional squeeze of her waist which just served to amplify how much was missing. When they arrived at the castle, the sky was dark and starless. They had left at the first sign of light that morning. The day had been long.

Harrow dismounted and walked up to them. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head toward Sarai. “She fell asleep,” Amaya signed softly “she’s ok, still breathing.” Harrow breathed a sigh of relief and watched Amaya dismount, being careful to jostle Sarai as little as possible as she picked her up off of the horse. She carried her into the house, leaving Harrow with a few of the Crown Guard and their horses. While the Crown Guard began taking the animals back to the stables, he rushed inside.

He found them in Amaya’s private room. It was small and infrequently used, owing to the fact that Amaya was most often stationed at The Breach. It didn’t contain much more than a bed, desk, and chair, but she had assured him multiple times that she liked it that way. He walked over to the bed and saw Amaya gently removing Sarai’s armor.

He wasn’t sure if she was still asleep but her eyes were closed so he opted to get Amaya’s attention. “May I help?” he signed. She nodded, and they worked together to get Sarai out of her armor. When they finished, Amaya looked up at him and signed, “you sleep, I’ll watch her.” He shook his head but Amaya insisted, “Sleep. You have to be able to take care of the boys.” He nodded. She was right. He headed down the hall towards his chambers, stopping in the boys’ rooms along the way to give them each a kiss on the forehead. He was nearly to his chambers when he stopped, turned around, and headed for the kitchens.

A few minutes later, he returned to Amaya’s room holding a couple of jelly tarts on a napkin and two glasses of water. Amaya turned toward the smell, and shot Harrow a curious look. “Eat,” he said, adding with an emphatic sign “please.” It was hard to eat jelly tarts without thinking about Sarai. She hadn’t even woken up at the smell, and that made Amaya worried. When she finished she thanked Harrow and told him to go to bed. He nodded and left. She turned her attention back to Sarai. She brushed back some hair that had fallen into her face and was shocked by how hot her forehead was. She had been so caught up in her concern for Sarai’s sight that she hadn’t thought to check for other effects of the lightning. She felt guilty.

She took the napkin in one hand, one of the glasses in the other, and carefully poured some water onto the cloth. She folded it and placed it on her sister’s head. Sarai’s eyes came open, “Cold,” she signed, a faint groan escaping her lips. “Sorry,” Amaya signed, her hand on her sister’s chest rather than her own. She hoped the intent got across. Then she grabbed one of her sister’s hands and turned it upwards. “H-O-M-E,” “S-L-E-E-P,” she signed, pressing each letter into her palm. Those three words were the most complex thing that they were able to communicate in nearly half a day. Three small, simple words. They weren’t enough, but she hoped that somehow three more would be. She bent her middle and forefinger down to her palm, leaving her index finger, pinkie, and thumb out. She pressed the sign into Sarai’s palm. Seconds later, Sarai returned the sign, a smile wide on her face, and then Amaya smiled too. They fell asleep holding hands, Amaya still in full armor.

Amaya woke up first and checked Sarai’s forehead. It was cooler, her fever had gone down, but it still hadn’t broken. She sat up on the edge of the bed and gave Sarai’s hand a squeeze. She squeezed back and opened her eyes, blinking a few times before signing, “still can’t see.” Amaya sat her sister up before pulling her into a one-armed hug. Then she turned her body slightly and reached out, running her fingers gently through Sarai’s hair, watching for any signs of pain before she started to braid it. It had been years, but Amaya’s fingers fell right back into the motion, moving with ease just like they had when the two of them were young and stayed up talking to each other until it got too dark to see then switched to braiding each other’s hair.

The sisters savored the moment, this closeness that didn’t need words and made them feel as connected as they always had. When she finished, Sarai shook her hands in overzealous applause that made Amaya laugh. Then she signed, more seriously, “thank you.” Amaya took her sister’s hand and signed, “G-E-T-T-I-N-G H-A-R-R-O-W.” She gave the hand a squeeze and stood up. Then she walked to the King’s chambers and knocked on the door.

Seconds later, the doors opened and a concerned Harrow greeted her, the question plain on his face. She wanted to put his worries to rest quickly but didn’t want to lose him by going too fast so she kept her answers short, “she’s fine, awake, F-E-V-E-R a little better,” spelling the word he didn’t know the sign for. Relief washed over his face as he understood. “Can you watch her?” Amaya asked, adding “make sure she tries to eat breakfast.” She gave him a sweet smile that Sarai would have recognized as devious, but he simply nodded and headed toward her room. She waited long enough for him to be most of the way down the hall, then headed for the High Mage’s study.

She opened the door. “Yes, Your—,” Viren said, turning his head toward the door then startling, clearly not expecting her. “YOU,” she signed, fury contorting her face. He froze. She kept her finger extended, walking toward him until her nail was jabbing into his chest. “A-A-Amaya,” he stammered. “How COULD You?” she signed, not bothering to slow her hands down enough for him to understand. His eyes widened in a mixture of confusion and fear. “Repeat?” He signed shakily. She grabbed his wrist and threw his hand down to his side. “LISTEN,” she signed. He gulped and gave a small nod. “Your PLAN left my sister BLIND!” He recognized ‘sister’ and deduced ‘blind’ from one of the signs. He knew Sarai had been attacked and gotten hurt, but he hadn’t thought to ask about the full extent of her injuries. “I’m so sorry,” he said, signing the last word, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“LIAR,” she snapped. “Amaya, please understand, that plan fed 100,000 people.” “The only thing you care about FEEDING is your E-G-O,” she spelled the last word to make sure he got it and based on his affronted expression, he did. “I...I,” he sputtered. She raised her right hand to sign, “you are a coward, spineless, you didn’t even help the Queens,” while she used her left to grab him by the neck and dig her nails in, squeezing until he started to scream.

The next thing she knew, she felt two hands on her shoulders, pulling her back. She lunged forward, but the hands were insistent in turning her around and she came face-to-face with Harrow. “Amaya please,” he signed, keeping one hand on her shoulder. She swallowed the spit that she was readying for Viren but let her angry expression linger. “Please stop,” he said. “Let’s go outside.” He glared back at Viren to make sure he wouldn’t follow. He led her to the main castle courtyard. By the time they got there, her anger had started to dissipate, but she was still visibly upset. He gestured for her to sit with him under a tree. She did.

“I know why you’re angry,” he said, continuing “but don’t take it out on Viren.” “I am your King, my bad decisions are my own.” Amaya relaxed. Even if Viren was an evil man, she could take respite in the fact that Harrow was a good King. “Now, come on,” he said then jumped up. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He led her like an excited child to the castle’s front gate.

There, a new recruit stood just on the other side, a redhead with freckles and bright blue eyes. “This is G-R-E-N,” he signed smiling. “H-A-R-R-O-W what is this child doing here?” she signed, spelling his name for emphasis. “The King sent for me General.” he signed.“It is an honor to meet you,” Amaya jumped back, her eyes going wide. “You sign?!” She tried to collect herself, sure that the shock was still plain on her face. “I do,” he signed, speaking simultaneously so that Harrow could follow, quickly adding, “I’m so sorry about what happened to your sister, I—I mean the Queen.” He held her gaze the whole time. His eyes were full of sympathy, so gentle and genuine.

Over the next few weeks while Sarai recovered, the sisters got to know Gren. His favorite food was strawberries, and he blushed the color of one when they told dirty jokes. Though, for the most part, he conveyed them dutifully. According to Sarai, his voice was bright and cheery, though it carried a bit of nervousness. Amaya had noticed the same thing in his otherwise impressively fluid signs. Both sisters noticed that he quickly picked up on the nuances in their communication. He even began to sign much like Sarai when interpreting for her. On top of that, she learned from Sarai that by a week in, he had crafted a voice to use when interpreting her. It was confident, capable, and commanding but still effortlessly delivered her sarcasm. Sarai laughed at just how different the voice was from his own. Gren blushed while interpreting the story but gave a small laugh of his own.

The morning before Amaya was due back to The Breach, she sat down across from where he was having breakfast. He didn’t use to eat breakfast but she had quickly broken that habit. “Good morning, Commander,” she signed with a small smile. “Good morning, General,” he signed looking slightly puzzled. “What’s,” he repeated her last sign and asked her to spell. “C-O-M-M-A-N-D-E-R,” she signed. “I’m promoting you and assigning you to my battalion.” His eyes went wide, his hands and mouth both still with speechlessness. It was nearly a minute before he managed to sign a quick, “thank you.” She walked over to the other side of the table and hugged him from behind.

The next day, they both said their goodbyes to Harrow and Sarai. Though Gren, for his part, insisted on referring to them as “Your Highness,” and “My Queen.” The sisters hugged, squeezing tightly, though not out of fear this time. They were no longer afraid that they would drift apart from each other.


End file.
